The Hospitality of the Dwarves
by Rebell
Summary: Gimli has been waiting for years to get Legolas and Aragorn to come to the Glittering Caves. And he has finally persuaded them to come. For Legolas though, the caves prove perilous, and the learning of dwarvish customs is slightly humiliating.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **The characters are not mine. I do not own Tolkein's world. It owns me.

**AN: **A peace offering in appeasement for not updating anything else for so long. I've got too many ideas for everything BUT _Amarth Naur_, and it's catching up to me. I actually wrote this quite some time ago for a Teitho contest in which we had to involve 'foreign' customs. I've reworked it a bit, and now offer it up to you. This means no threats of bodily injury. Please.

Aragorn pounded on the closed door, both concerned and annoyed. "Come on, you!" he called. "Do you want to be late?" A slight pause, then, "Legolas?"

The door remained firmly closed. Aragorn stared at the heavy oak for several seconds before slowly reaching for and turning the dull brass knob. He entered cautiously, not exactly sure what he would find.

A simple pack lay against the bed, no doubt filled with _lembas. _There was no sleeping pad or blanket attached to the bottom, as the elf had no need of them, much preferring to keep vigil in a tree. Legolas's bow and quiver stood at the pack's side. The quiver was completely filled with arrows, and Aragorn had to laugh at his friend's foresight. It was not often that they went on a trip and did not get into some sort of trouble. Twin white handles peeked out of the identical sheaths that lay across the bed.

But the key part to this tableau was missing. Legolas himself was nowhere to be seen.

A grunt from under the bed drew Aragorn's attention. Dropping down on hands and knees, he peered around the leg of the bedstead. There was the wood-elf, grappling with a boot caught on one of the bed's springs. Aragorn made a mental note not to let Legolas around any small children with even a slight grasp of the Sindarin language when the elf prince was frustrated. Some of the expletives made even the hardened ranger blush.

"Legolas!"

The prince scrambled out from under the bed, blonde hair disheveled from the tussle with the immovable boot. "Hello, Aragorn."

"What on Arda is wrong with you? I haven't seen you like this since the fight you had with your father when I was twenty."

Legolas, irritated, sat on his bed and pulled on one of his boots. Aragorn reached under the bed and removed the boot from the spring with a deft twist. He handed it to the owner with an exaggerated flourish.

Legolas eyed him, and for a moment, the ranger thought that his friend would swear again, but nothing was forthcoming. The wood-elf had lost his steam. "Thank you, Aragorn. I don't know… I just don't want to go!"

"You silly creature," Aragorn said, laughing. "We won't be gone long. Two weeks at most. Gimli is waiting, by the way."

"He can wait a bit longer," Legolas said, getting to his feet and shouldering his pack. "I… am not sure this is a good idea." The statement came before he could catch it. The idea of going to the Glittering Caves had been nudging the back of the elf's head for sometime now, but he had dismissed it as being irrelevant. After all, what could go wrong? But now that his fear –no, not fear, trepidation- was out in the open, he was immensely glad he had said it. Aragorn would tell him whether he was being silly or not.

Aragorn handed the elf his bow and quiver. "Are you scared? You, prince of Mirkwood, lord of Ithilien, best elven archer in the three elven realms?"

Legolas pointed sharply at the ranger. "I am _not _scared. I am just a little nervous about going to a dwarven complex. It is underground Aragorn. I do not like going underground. And furthermore, all those little… hairy beings. Simply because I am friends with one of them, does not mean all the others will accept an elf so readily."

Aragorn stopped his snickering and regarded his friend seriously. "You need not worry, _mellon-nin._ The caves have been there for many hundreds of years, and are probably older than you. It will not be as Moria was, for you can always go outside if you feel confined. And the dwarves… Durin's race can be friendly, Legolas. You just have to let them accept you."

"I do not want to continuously ward off ill words and the like."

"Trust me, _mellon-nin,_" Aragorn said, laughingly, "I don't think that you will have a problem with the ill words. You are more than capable deflecting them, even if the 'little hairy beings' cannot understand Sindarin."

Legolas had the good grace to blush. "Well… as long as you are around to make sure I say and do nothing offensive, I suppose I will survive the visit."

The pair made good time to the Glittering Caves from the White City, and although Aragorn could feel Legolas's unease grow the closer they got, the elf kept his spirits up well enough. The ranger heard Legolas speak to the trees more and more, as if he was a sponge, soaking up all the conversation with living things he could. He reminded Aragorn of a bear stocking up for winter.

On the last day of their travels, they began to pass over familiar ground. Legolas clucked to Arod, who promptly halted. The ranger allowed Brego to stop as well and turned in the saddle to regard the elf quizzically. "What is it now?"

The elf pointed away to the north, across the West Emnet. "Fangorn lies that way. Why do we not just—"

"No, Legolas," Aragorn scolded, smile belying his words. "We promised to go and see Gimli."

Arod started forward again, and as he passed, Legolas eyed the ranger and said, "As you wish. I would not want to go without forcibly dragging him along anyways."

Sighing, Aragorn followed his friend. As the scenery passed, and the day began to edge towards afternoon, he smiled upon noting the determined look upon his comrade's face.

Helm's Deep came into view, and up on the wall stood a short stocky figure, hand high in greeting. Legolas smiled and raised his own in response. "Gimli appears to be well," Aragorn said softly. "The cave life suits him."

"He is a little hairy being," Legolas replied dryly. "They are well-built for such life. And do not trust him. I think he will immediately drag us off on some blasted adventure in which one of us shall get killed."

Aragorn reached over and pushed the elf gently. "Do not be so pessimistic!"

But Legolas had seen the other, more numerous figures scurrying about inside the complex, and his nerve, normally strong as the stoutest oak, had begun to fail him. The little figures indicated dwarves, which brought to mind just how out of place he would be amongst the mountain-tough people.

Aragorn smiled reassuringly at the elf and slung an arm about his shoulders, no easy feet since both were mounted. "You are just as strong as they are, Legolas. You survived the War with nary a scratch, you were brought up under the shadow of Mirkwood, and you have lived through many, _many _years of friendship with my brothers. These dwarves will pose no problems to you at all."

"Says the smelly, unshaven man to the elf," came the reply. "You will fit right in."

They trotted their horses up the long stone walkway, and the door opened wide. There stood Gimli, his customary axe slung comfortably over his shoulder. Aragorn dismounted, and the two clasped forearms. "It is good to see you again, Gimli."

"Yourself as well!" Gimli replied jovially. "You took your time getting here!"

"Ah, the elf took too long! He stopped to talk to every single tree he saw!"

Gimli peered around Aragorn quizzically. "Where is that pointy-eared princeling, anyway? He hasn't tried to escape has he?"

"The pointy-eared princeling would like the short stubborn dwarf to stop yammering and turn about," Legolas said mockingly.

The dwarf spun on his heel and tried to reach up and clasp his friend's shoulder. Being nearly two feet shorter than Legolas, he failed miserably. The elf laughed and bowed. "My friend, you may as well give up your useless attempts." His eyes glittered with mirth as he added, "Or would you like me to find you a box?"

Gimli laughed and thumped the elf on the back in a friendly way, nearly sending Legolas crashing to the ground, so stiff was the blow. The elf grinned and turned to make sure that Arod was being taken care of.

"Glad to see you convinced the flighty creature to come," Gimli said to Aragorn out of the corner of his mouth.

"Why didn't I let Eomer behead the blasted dwarf?" Legolas promptly lamented upon hearing the remark.

Aragorn laughed and wondered, not for the first time, just how much of the bantering he would hear over the next two weeks. He did not get to wonder for long. Gimli urged them through the fortress, intent on getting through to Legolas just how beautiful the caves really were. After all, Dwarvish custom was to immediately spirit off any visitors and show them the latest in their delving projects.

More and more of Durin's race began to appear, stocky but strong legs slowing, then stopping in amazement as they viewed the visitors, one in particular. Legolas was acutely aware of the stares, some showing open curiosity and wariness, and others, sharp hostility.

He began to believe that somehow Gimli had neglected to mention that one of the visitors he was expecting was an elf.

The wood-elf kept his head high, seemingly unaffected by the rumbling whispers. Only Aragorn could tell that Legolas was unnerved, and only then because of their many years of friendship.

Soon, they had attracted a crowd, and Aragorn nudged the dwarf, who had been caught up in his explanation of the magnificent care being given to the caverns and their phenomenal formations. The son of Gloin started, seeing the sheer number of his folk gathered behind him. Then his face grew hard, expression turning swiftly to resemble the solid stone he delved.

"Here now!" he cried to the assembly. "Haven't you lot ever seen a man and an elf before?"

A young dwarf, face just showing the beginnings of what would be a fine black beard, stepped forward and replied, "Aye, but never a dwarf and a—" here, he paused, obviously biting back an adjective that would anger the three comrades, "and an elf walking in apparent friendship!"

Legolas swallowed and tensed, pointedly reminding himself just how big a problem they would have if he allowed his hands to go to his weapons. Aragorn sensed this, and placed a gentle but restraining hand on the elf's forearm. But both had to fight to hide a smile as they saw Gimli's face turn red to match the beard.

"Ah, you bunch of blasted ninnies!" he roared. "This here elf is Legolas Greenleaf, a great friend of mine, and a skilled warrior! He's here under _my _invitation, and if I catch word of you lot bothering him, I can't promise I'll get between yourself and that bow of his!"

He turned past Aragorn and his eyes came to rest pointedly on the elf's superb bow. Without another word, he continued on his way. Aragorn, now grinning widely, hustled a stunned Legolas along, noting in some delight the pale blush that tinged his friend's fair features.

Gimli hurried them through a number of twisting passageways, moving with ease while his taller companions had to duck and contort their bodies to pass. Legolas was distinctly happy that they had seen no more dwarves, for he was sure that if any had seen his somewhat clumsy descent through the tunnels, any and all respect he might have had would have disappeared, calling cheerful goodbye's over it's shoulder.

He paused where Gimli did, stretching to his full extent. Here, right near the entrance to the caves, the passages had grown wider and taller. Gimli waited patiently enough while his friends worked out the kinks in their shoulders and necks.

He had been trying to get the elf to come for _years; _he could wait a bit longer.

"Will you hurry yourselves? I'm to grow old before you finish!"

Well, maybe not that much longer.

Legolas smiled at his friend and stood tall. "Lead on, _mellon_."

Deciding not to push his luck, Gimli led the companions around the final turn in the tunnel.

They emerged in the first cavern, and Legolas felt his jaw drop. He had never been one for rocks, but _this_…

The cave… well… couldn't really be called a cave. It was demeaning somehow. Stalactites and stalagmites flowed together into single tapered columns, placed around the small lake with startling frequency. Along one of the walls, dark chocolate appeared to flow from the ceiling, made all the more real by the light of the torches flickering along the dark formation.

Gimli edged them further into the cavern, plainly enjoying the look on their faces.

Legolas turned in a slow circle, taking in the wondrous surroundings. Several dwarves passing close by saw his obvious amazement and snickered.

The elf paid them no mind, though they received a hard stare from Gimli, and a rather exasperated look from Aragorn, who had in fact, been to the caves before, many years ago.

Legolas eyed the ceiling, catching a glimpse of a sparkle as the light hit the far side of a stalactite. _So that is where the glittering part of the name comes from… _

But they had seen nothing yet. This was but the first link in the chain of caverns, and Gimli led them patiently through each one, letting them stare in awe as long as they wished. Dwarves carefully tended the formations, and one was courteous enough to show the ever-inquisitive Legolas something that almost none had seen before.

This dwarf, a jovial fellow named Thringe, noticed the wood-elf carefully place his hands against the wall, careful not to touch any delicate formations, and crane his neck back to inspect a strange shadow thrown across the ceiling.

The dwarf came over and said cheerfully, "You've got sharp eyes, elf. Not many's been seeing that!"

Legolas twisted further, causing Aragorn to wince even looking at him, trying to get a better glimpse of the shadow.

The dwarf watched for a moment, and then showed the elf a slight fissure in the rock. "If you're agile and strong enough, you can wedge your fingers and toes into the fissure and go up and have a better look."

Aragorn rolled his eyes slightly, very unbefitting of one of his station. Of _course _Legolas would go up and look!

Sure enough, the elf went up the fissure almost as easily as if he were climbing a tree. More of Durin's folk paused to watch as Legolas reached the end of the fissure and clung there like a spider. He still could not get enough of a look to suit him, so he bent over backward, maneuvering so that his legs were almost higher than his hands and he was very nearly upside-down.

He hung there, more than thirty feet up, studying the odd formation. Two paper-thin sheets of calcite, sharp-edged but graceful, hung from the ceiling, a length of almost five feet. He shifted once more, and gazed closely at nature's construction.

His gaze shifted up to where the calcite struck the ceiling, and his jaw dropped. There, seemingly clinging to the rock, was a dragon! So life-like it was, it took Legolas several shocked seconds to discern that the creature was not living, not even real. The stone creature seemed to look straight into his eyes, malice showing in the stony depths. It was apparently poised for flight, and the two long thin sheets were its wings.

"Bah, the darned elf is taking too long!" Gimli huffed. "There's still one more!" he called up.

Legolas studied the form once more before carefully righting himself and climbing down. He dropped the last ten feet easily, landing with barely a sound. "A beautiful thing," he said in awe, "A stone dragon is something rarely seen indeed." He turned to Thringe. "Thank you for showing me a way to study it more closely."

The small crowd dispersed, mumbling to themselves. As they brushed by Aragorn, he heard snatches of everything from 'crazy elf' to 'How'd he even see that?' with the occasional 'Durin, save us from these nutters' thrown in.

The last cavern was reached by ducking under a low over- hang. Gimli beamed in anticipation. This was the one he had been waiting for. The last cavern was not terribly big, but it contained something that the wood-elf would love.

The elf spotted it immediately and rushed over to stand before it, gazing in wonder.

"It is a tree!" he whispered in disbelief. "I do not believe it!"

Aragorn snickered quietly to himself: this was a sight he thought he would never see! Legolas Greenleaf, dedicated wood-elf, fawning over a rock wall in a cave.

Granted, this was not an ordinary rock wall. Over the many, many years, rivulets of water ran down the side of the wall, carving tiny grooves in the wall. They were wide and varied at the top, creating the branches, but near the bottom, a stroke of chance led all the grooves to run together, creating a thick trunk.

Legolas stretched out a hand tentatively, earned a go-ahead from Gimli, and traced the tree's shape, running sensitive fingers down the grooves. "It- it looks like the banyan tree I sit under at home!" he said in wonder. "Look Aragorn, see this cluster of grooves right here? The little robin's nest would be there! And over-"

The ranger and dwarf studied the 'tree' and Aragorn had to admit, the grooves _did _resemble Legolas's favourite tree.

He was about to comment when the floor rumbled underneath them.

"Out!" Gimli roared, sensing the truth. "Get back out of here!"

The floor shook as they fled back into the complex, causing them to stumble. They ran hard, dust rising to choke them, to blind them. Aragorn was forced to hold onto Gimli's broad shoulder simply to tell which way to go. It all happened within a span of two minutes, not long under normal circumstances, but seemingly a lifetime to the two friends. Aragorn suddenly realized that Legolas was no longer with them, but even his overwhelming concern was washed away as he tripped and rolled.

He was back on his feet in an instant, Gimli's rough hand pulling him along even before he achieved his balance. They were at the exit then, and the earth gave a final violent heave, knocking them from their feet. The roar of the tremors faded, and all was still.

Coughing, Aragorn rose onto his knees and searched for Gimli. The dwarf was only two feet away, and the friends clasped each other's shoulders in relief. The ranger scrambled onto his feet, eyes searching the blinding dust for the tall slim frame of Legolas. The wood elf was not there.

Immediately, Gimli and Aragorn made a circuit of the chamber, eyes searching for the tell-tale flash of blonde, the pale chiseled features, the beardless chin.

By then, some of the dust had settled allowing them to see each other's stricken faces as they returned to their starting point empty-handed. Questioning of the semi-shaken dwarves revealed that they had not seen the elf either.

Several of Durin's folk gathered about a fallen comrade, and Gimli and Aragorn went that way next. The injured dwarf was Thringe, and upon seeing the two friends, he called out for them and painfully pushed himself to his feet.

"The elf!" he gasped, swaying for balance. "In the caves. He's a prince is he?"

"Yes," Aragorn admitted, feeling a rush of relief and confusion. "You have seen him? How did you know?"

"Oh aye. He saved my life as a matter of fact. I was working on that far stalactite when the tremors started. Knocked me off my feet, twisted my ankle. I called for help, as it would not support my weight, but none heard me, save for the elf.

"He forced me to my feet, but my leg buckled and I went back down hard. He swore and yelled above the noise, 'Get yourself on your feet! I order you, blast it!' I groaned and asked him what nonsense he spoke. He replied, even fiercer than before, 'As Prince of Mirkwood, I outrank you, and you would do well to remember that!'

"He continued, and this time, as I struggled back up, I could hear the note of panic in his voice. He wanted out of the caverns even more than I, and so I did not object to his rough pull as he half-dragged me toward the exit. He kept up a steady string of orders, such as, 'Faster! Turn here! Quick! Duck!'

"And then, I felt a hard shove from behind, just as the last tremor struck. I've neither seen nor heard him since."

Aragorn felt a quick wave of fear. He turned about and brought Gimli with him. "Where is the entrance to the caverns?"

The dwarf, picking up Aragorn's thought path, started and led the ranger swiftly around the corner. But they could go no further. A pile of rubble reaching all the way to the ceiling blocked the entrance to the caverns. It was completely impassable.

Gimli and Aragorn stared at the wall and at each other in bemusement. For a second, the thought was completely blocked from their minds. Then Gimli was gone, rushing back through the tunnels to gather dwarves to excavate the massive pile.

Aragorn remained, staring at the huge pile of rubble. Then he moved forward, and started to climb. He worked up the side of the wall gingerly, fearful of setting off another tremor. The thought of Legolas trapped under all this rock surfaced in his mind, but he quickly pushed it away. He would not linger on such a thing.

_Valar let him be well!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I only own them in my loveliest dreams.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Reaching the top of the large blockade, Aragorn began to tentatively scrape away the loose dirt while holding on to a half-formed stalactite with the other hand. It was not long before he broke through into an empty space on the other side. Encouraged by the continuing stableness of the wall, he began to work downward, enlarging the hole. Again, it wasn't long before his progress was halted, this time because of a large boulder. After exploring the edge with his fingers, Aragorn realized that there was no working past the giant rock, and he had to content himself with the small, head-sized hole he had created.

"Legolas? _Mellon-nin, _are you well?"

He waited for a moment, listening in vain for some response, than repeated the plea. Twice, he repeated this process, and then, the fourth time he called, he heard a reply.

"Aragorn?"

"_Mellon-nin_, where are you?"

A pause, and then Aragorn heard a rather dry version of the elven prince's voice waft through the hall. "Well Aragorn, I appear to be in a cave."

At that moment, Gimli returned with a party of dwarves outfitted with pickaxes and shovels. Aragorn stopped them with a raised hand, and in the ensuing silence, Legolas could be heard quite clearly, though his voice sounded rather hoarse. "And I am in this dratted cave because of one of those hairy little beings cannot keep his feet firmly planted on the ground. And here I thought that the hirsute creatures are so 'in touch' with the rock. An elf _never _falls out of a tree…"

"_Legolas!" _Aragorn hissed. "_They are _right_ here!"_

A faint "Oh," reached the ears of those who listened. "Well then… I am trapped in here by the way. It's rather dark… I appear to be sheltered in a tiny little dip with a giant boulder over my head. And it is dark."

The dwarves motioned Aragorn down. As soon as he was safely clear, they moved in and began to methodically clear the passage, working swiftly but with great care.

The ranger paced back and forth, wondering if Legolas was indeed all right. The elf had not mentioned an injury, but that was typical. He had sounded rather annoyed with the whole ordeal, but Aragorn's ears, finely tuned to the voice inflections of his life-long friend, knew that Legolas was badly shaken. He was trapped in a cave in the dark, and that was bad enough for any elf. Moreover, his life depended entirely on the dwarves, and everyone knew that that was potential for disaster.

He paused in his pacing and watched Gimli, hard at work alongside his workers, and smiled briefly. Legolas had nothing to fear as long as Gimli was there.

Minutes stretched into an hour, at which point the dwarves had cleared sufficient space at the top of the rubble to crawl through. They did so immediately, though they had a fine view of Aragorn's backside as they went. The ranger, upon hearing the triumphant call of the dwarves as they breached the wall, had shot up the wall as fast as an elf would a tree. He would go first, he said, although, not in so many words. His worry about his friend's silence was beginning to wear.

Reaching the other side of the wall, he realized that the slope on this side was far gentler than the other. He felt his way down, going faster as the dwarves, bearing torches came through. "Legolas!"

"Over here."

Aragorn immediately rushed to his left, heart nearly stopping as he glimpsed his friend. The elf was flat on his stomach, arms protectively over his head. The rest of his body was not visible, for he was indeed lying in a small dip. The boulder had come down directly upon him, and would have certainly crushed him if not for the shallow depression. As it was, he was no doubt feeling rather squashed.

The dwarves did not cheer upon seeing the elf, but instead set about their work of moving the stone. Gimli and Aragorn remained by Legolas's head. "You gave us quite a scare, lad. And what's all this about me being a little hairy being?" The stout dwarf crossed his arms; Aragorn and Legolas could both tell that he was torn between acting angry and wanting to give the elf a bone-crushing hug.

"You cannot get rid of me so easily." Legolas replied cheerfully. "No matter how much your companions would like to leave me here."

"Don't be daft! You saved Thringe, and if a single dwarf is indebted, all the dwarves are indebted! They won't be forgetting that you saved his life, and, if anything, will be even more surly because they are nervous about seeming too friendly too fast."

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Wonderful," he muttered, so low that only Aragorn could hear, "they become more brusque the more they like you. I do so love these hairy beings."

The ranger shouted with laughter, drawing several strange looks from the dwarves. Their surprised eyes staring out from beneath bushy eyebrows made the ranger laugh all the more.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The next night, after both ranger and elf received a well-earned day of rest (and in Legolas's case, recovery), they answered the call of the dwarves and ventured up to the large gathering room that the dwarves had appropriated for dining uses. Not that the tables and stools scattered around the room constituted fine dining exactly. It reminded Legolas much of a tavern, albeit a large, very noisy one.

The room was nearly full, and off in the corner, three dwarves pounded out a steady rhythm on large drums. The room was full of pipe-weed smoke and the hum of rough voices. Over the entire din, a dwarf rumbled out an ancient poem that ran rather like a song to the beat of the drums.

The commotion ceased when the elf entered, but soon picked right up again, with many of the 'patrons' stealing looks at the two travelers. They had naturally heard the entire story of the day before. Legolas had in fact been privy to everything from stiff claps on the back and gruff words of thanks to still-grouchy mumbles about him trying to 'gain favor', and everything in between.

Gimli yelled over the din that this was where many of the dwarves could be found when they were not working the caves. And apparently, the entire population was now in this hall.

They found an empty table near the drummers (no easy feat) and sat, Legolas eyeing the goings-on in frank amazement. Aragorn sat back and enjoyed the sights, trying to keep a look of smugness from crossing his features. He himself had been a guest of dwarves several times in his life, and he had found them much the same: rough and tough as the mountain rock they delved, but with a great fondness and affection for the earth. He noted in some delight that all the dwarven complexes seemed to have another thing in common: a large greeting room and a large stockpile of beer and ale.

Legolas drummed his fingers against the table in time to the dwarven drums as Gimli went to fetch them some drinks. The place nearly overwhelmed him, so great was the confusion and noise, but in a strange way he felt himself slowly relaxing, drawn to it all. The pipe-weed was the one thing that bothered him, for, as an elf, he was not accustomed to such great quantities of the stuff. He had put up with it from Aragorn and Gandalf for many years, and then during the war, he had put up with the entire Fellowship puffing away on their pipes. But all this… He coughed slightly, but covered it up by thanking Gimli as the dwarf set down the mugs.

"You like the drums, lad?" Gimli asked, noting the twitching fingers of the elf.

"Yes," Legolas answered, eyes slightly unfocused as he remembered some distant time from the past. "If they sped it up a little, and changed a beat," (here, he demonstrated by drumming his hands on the table) "one would have the beat of an old Elvish drinking song."

The sudden stillness of the great room startled the elf, and he eyed the masses with a small amount of nervousness. Upon his demonstration of the beat, the drums had gone silent, prompting the rest of Durin's folk to go quiet and look for the source of the disruption. Therefore, the words 'old Elvish drinking song' had struck out quite effectively.

With a growing sense of dread, Legolas watched as the drummers conferred with each other and struck up the beat, this time with his alteration evident. The elf looked about desperately as the dwarves closed in around him, with what he deemed to be evil glints in their eyes. "You are not about—" he protested.

Aragorn fought back a series of undignified snickers. He knew just what was happening. He himself had once been subject to this dwarven custom, and he would enjoy watching his friend be put on the spot.

The dwarves deftly grasped the elf's forearms and swung him up onto the table, rumbling with laughter as they caught sight of his panicked expression.

"You are all quite mad!" he called, silencing the dwarves effectively. But only for an instant as a dwarf called back victoriously, "Nay! We are little hairy beings!"

The drums struck the beat with renewed vigor, and all others fell quiet, waiting expectantly. Legolas stifled a groan and looked to Aragorn for help.

Aragorn laughed and told his friend, "It is custom for any guest knowing a song to perform it. Especially if it is a drinking song. If it is any good, it will be remembered, and sung at festivals, when the beer runs freely. And since it is the dwarves custom, it would be rude if you do not comply."

"You are in league with them aren't you?" Legolas cried in dismay, but, in looking down at the dwarfs' expectant gazes, he found that he couldn't very well reject the custom and sit down. With a great and exaggerated sigh, he motioned for the drummers to speed the tempo along until it reached a swift high-spirited beat. Deciding that he may as well get in the mood, he reached down, picked up his mug and drained it in a quick gulp, much to the approval of the dwarves.

And then, smiling devilishly, he reached out for Aragorn and pulled the man up beside him. He snickered and told the no-longer-laughing-ranger, "It is better sung by two!"

Before Aragorn could protest, Legolas started, and he was hard pressed to keep up with the elf in the rollicking tune.

_The Imladrisian red wine,  
Is certainly more than just divine,  
Hey hey!_

_And yet it simply does not compare,  
To Lothlorien's tang, which curls the hair,  
Hey hey!_

_Don't forget old Greenwood's taste,  
whose many parties keep it from waste,  
Hey hey!_

_The songs of old speak of Fangorn's Ent-wash,  
One sip provides the most excellent nosh,  
Hey hey!_

_Hey, ho! drink it down!  
Turn the tongue, erase the frown  
(quietly) Listen closely, hear that sound?  
(shout) That be the town turnin' upside-down!_

_Bring the wine, the beer, the ale!  
The best of the latter, you'll find in the dale  
Hey hey!_

_Rohan's mead is known far and wide,  
Warm's all but the coldest insides,  
Hey hey!_

_The dwarven beer, we must admit,  
Is better than most other grit,  
Hey hey!_

_What else there is, we do not know,  
But ask us to judge and off we'll go,  
Hey hey!_

_Hey ho! drink it down!  
Turn the tongue, erase the frown  
(quietly) Listen closely, hear that sound?  
(shout) That be us just stumblin' round!_

The dwarves cheered as the two finished and sat heavily into their seats. The sturdy folk came forward and clapped them on the back, pressed drinks into their hands, and called for an encore performance. They desisted and listened to more of the dwarven songs, staying up well past midnight. In fact, it was near dawn before they stumbled off to bed.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

The two weeks passed happily for dwarves, man, and elf alike. While some of Durin's folk were still openly hostile, they did not cause trouble, and they were well out-numbered by those who slowly befriended the elf.

Legolas found that he could indeed tolerate the caves enough to be in them for hours at a time, helping the dwarves and learning of their skills with the rock. The combined efforts of Gimli and Aragorn, not to mention an entire team, managed to get him to venture on an expedition into an unexplored section of the caves, emerging with nary a scratch. His sharp eyes had discovered another odd formation, and the dwarves proclaimed that this was proof that he was destined to live underground.

The look of horror that appeared on his face, it was later reported, was no less priceless than an uncut load of gems.

And from the first day, to the day of their departure, Legolas had learned of yet another dwarvish way of life. Dwarves did not take kindly to being called 'little hairy beings', and were apt to plot revenge quickly. They had begun to repay the perpetrator by referring to the elf as 'that scrawny prissy creature'. Legolas instantly responded with numerous variations of his own description. One against several hundred however, was not exactly a favorable odd.

Aragorn wisely remained neutral on the subject.

The ranger mounted Brego and looked about for his friend, who was still on the ground. As a matter of fact, Arod was nowhere to be seen. Before Aragorn could question the elf, Legolas put his fingers to his mouth and blew, producing a piercing whistle that echoed through out the fortress.

In minutes, the clattering of hooves announced the freckled stallion's approach, followed by low cries of dismay as the heavy footsteps of running dwarves came behind it.

Legolas smiled and leapt onto his friend's back, patting the strong neck fondly. "Well done, _mellon-nin._"

"Legolas, stop torturing the little hairy beings." Aragorn clasped his hand over his mouth looking horrified. It had just slipped out, and he knew repercussions would be swift in coming. Already, the dwarves were muttering about the best adjectives to fit the man. He called a hurried good-bye to Gimli and spurred Brego away.

Legolas laughed, the clear sound hanging in the air long after he was gone. And from far away, the assembled dwarves heard the cry come back on the wind. "I have done my part, bushy-bearded friend! Now it is your turn! Fangorn awaits!"

_Fin_

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**AN: **Yes, I know, the drinking song again! It's only the second time I've used it, though, so I think it's all right, no?

I was totally blown away by the responses I got for the first part. Thanks everyone, for not throwing objects at me, and for putting up with my 'nasty cliffies', as many of you called them. **Tristan-the-Dreamer, Mandanza. Calenlass Greenleaf1, rivendellelve, SilverArtimis, Gord and V, Goddess of Sarcassam, Chibified Youkai 101, LovewithWars, empath89, White Wolf1, Lady Ambreanna, Nelarun, **and **invisigoth3** are all incredible, amazing people.

Thanks also to everyone who put this story on alert or on their favorites. (grin) I feel oh so special!

That's all for now I believe. Thanks again everyone!


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